The bird flying up North
Across two rain clouds
Separated by a ridge of grey light.
I go to the window facing East
To do bird-watching
Remind myself it requires patience.
I see the blue kingfisher sitting
Above the water on a height
In a dry low branch of that tree in water.
dark reddish brown head
Flesh-colored long, thick beak
Bright blue all down below.
Told Tillumma and she wanted
To see, and did. Then the bird flew
Sat in another spot showing chest-white.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem